Addicted
by blue peanut m and m
Summary: Dean's hurt and Sam. . . . . .well Sam's not acting himself. What has happened to the younger brother? What happened whilst Dean was out for the count? My birthday fic to myself, from a bunny off Darksupernatural.
1. Chapter 1

**Addicted.**

**Summary. . . . . . Dean's hurt and Sam's. . . . . . .well Sam's not acting himself. Just what is wrong with the younger brother? Just what happened whilst Dean was down and out? Thanks to darksupernatural for the bunny.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . Well Jared and Jensen weren't wrapped in bows and on my doorstep this morning, so I guess they still belong to Kripkie.**

**A.N. . . . . . So I'm back, but not with the story I was suppose to come back with (sorry Kris!) but with a short fic written for me for my birthday. This is just a short taster to whet your appetite, will be back soon with more, Peanut x**

"Jesus Christ Sammy! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean shouted over the growl of his babies engine and the screech of her tires as Sam barely slowed the big car down as they took the corner virtually sideways, his arm tucked securely, safely to his chest in an attempt to keep the damaged limb still, his head pounding out a metallica beat.

"Just trying to get your sorry ass to the hospital to get your arm fixed." Sam gleefully replied, a smile as wide as the Pacific ocean plastered across his face, his eyes wide and hyper excited, his foot firmly planted to the floor.

"What the hell Sam? What is wrong with you? I swear to God, if you so much as scratch her, I'll never forgive you."

As Sam just took a hill at full speed, turning the Impala into a gravity defying jet engine for a few seconds, and practically whooping with enjoyment, Dean blanched his eyes turning steely as they rested on his younger sibling.

"Pull over!" At getting no response, Dean growled. "Dammit Sam, pull the car over now! I'll drive myself."

His eyes still dancing and way too bright even in the dull early hours of the morning, Sam looked at Dean before replying. "Why? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong? Sam, Jeff Gordon would be afraid to ride shotgun with you tonight. What the hell has gotten into you?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to get you to the hospital quickly. If it's bothering you then I'll slow down."

Closing his eyes as Sam slowed the big car down, Dean wondered what was wrong with his brother, Sam had been fine earlier this evening and had even dispelled of the witch they had been hunting, after Dean had been thrown though the air by one of her spells into the unforgiving brick wall of her house. Now though Sam was acting weird, totally out of character, and just where had this need for speed come from? He was after all the child who had up chucked his candy floss on the teacup ride at the local fair. Had something happened whilst Dean was out for those few minutes?

Dean could feel weariness and the lull of sleep begin to drag him under, the blissful comfort from the pain it promised gradually easing his worries, yet something was stopping him from relaxing completely. A tapping. What the hell was that tapping? He felt anger rise within him at the thought that Sam had damaged his car and opened his eyes ready to yell blue murder at him, only to stop as realization fell. There was nothing wrong with the car, it was Sam.

Sam tapping away at the steering wheel of the car as his foot bounced nervously on the floor, looking somewhat like an inpatient father to be, or a junkie craving his next fix.

"Sam? What is wrong with you? Are you hurt? Are you injured?"

"Nothing! I'm fine Dean, just happy that the hunt went well." Sam paused before adding. "Well apart from your busted arm, oh and the bump to your head, oh and a couple of my own bruises that is."

"You're not doing a great job of convincing me here Sam. If your not injured then what's with the, oh I don't know, almost me attitude? When did you suddenly become a risk taker?"

"I have no idea what you mean, Dean. I'm just trying to get you fixed up so that we can move on."

Dean wanted to argue that something was definitely wrong, but Sam chose that moment to drive the Impala over a pot hole, jostling Dean about the interior like a rag doll, his head bashing back against the seat back, as his elbow slammed into the door panel sending a vibration up the damaged limb, his pain receptors screaming out in response. As stars danced across his vision, Dean struggled to held in a groan of pain, just about hearing Sam call out above the roaring in his ears.

"Dean. Man, I'm so sorry, just hold on we're nearly there. I'm so, so sorry." Dean though had passed out, not hearing the big engine growl again as Sam pushed the pedal to the metal once more.

**A.N. . . . . . I apologise yet again for the shortness, will make up for it in the next chapters I promise. As I said though this was just an appetiser. Hope that you enjoyed and will catch you soon, Peanut x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Addicted.**

**Summary. . . . . . Dean's hurt and Sam's. . . . . . .well Sam's not acting himself. Just what is wrong with the younger brother? Just what happened whilst Dean was down and out? Thanks to darksupernatural for the bunny.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . Don't own Sam, Dean or the Impala, just playing with Kripkie's toys.**

**A.N. . . . . I'm so sorry for the lateness of this post. I had two good friends and my Godson over from England, so my time was taken up with showing them all the wonders of Canada. I'm also sorry for giving you another short chapter, I will try to make them longer from now on. Also this is yet another build up chapter, but don't worry the fun starts soon. Thanks as always for reading, Peanut x**

Dean had passed out again into blissful oblivion before Sam had even made it to the hospital, the pain from his arm pushing him under missing Sam's sideways, two wheeled, slide into the ambulance bay and his brother's perfect impression of Hazard boy as he slid across the hood of the Impala in his hurry to get help.

As nurses and orderlies arrived, brought by Sam's extra loud yelling and the sight of a six foot four jumping giant, the younger hunter stood off to the side, practically chewing his nails off and bouncing from foot to foot with nervous built up energy. Once Dean had been whisked off to be treated Sam was left alone, no one willing to be near the unusually acting goliath, leaving Sam to his own devices of pacing back and forth across the dreary yet pristine white tills.

He didn't notice the stealthy arrival of the two hospital security guards, brought in by staff members nervous at Sam's growing unrest, poised ready to make a move at a moments notice should Sam's mood suddenly turn aggressive. Sam thought just continued his pacing, his feet wearing a dull path as he continued his back and forth movement, his fingernails now bleeding as his teeth gnawed even closer to the beds. He practically jumped as Dean's doctor finally arrived and touched him on the arm. Turning he gripped the mans shoulders, his face inching closer to the doctors as questions tumbled from his mouth like water from a tap.

"Is Dean okay? How's my brother? What's wrong with him? Can I see him? Where is he? When can we get out of here?"

The doctor just looked at the very tall man that towered above his own five foot seven frame, his shoulders aching slightly from the vice like grip of the man's hands on them. He motioned to the side of himself at the two guards who were moving in, startled into action by Sam's change of behaviour and the man handling of doctor to stand down. Looking back Sam's way he took in the slightly blown pupils, the perspiration that stood out on his upper lip and brow, the bouncing on his toes that reminded him of his daughters Tigger bear back home. Stopping Sam before he could launch into another barrage of questions, the doctor finally spoke.

"Calm down son. Breathe!" Once Sam had released his shoulders, he pointed to the chairs that lined the waiting room wall before adding. "Why don't we take a seat?" He watched as Sam reluctantly folded himself into one of the hard plastic chairs his feet still bouncing on the spot, before he took one himself. "So, your brother, Dean did you say?" At Sam's eager nod he continued. "Dean suffered a relatively mild concussion and a severe bruising of his olecranon, or elbow as it is more commonly known. With rest the concussion will go away, as will the tenderness in his joint, although he will be in pain for a while and have limited mobility until the swelling reduces. He woke up whilst being treated and was lucid enough, we would have preferred to have kept him over night, but he has insisted on being released. His papers are being drawn up as we speak, as is his pain medication, as soon as they are done he will be free to go, but I must insist that you ensure he rest."

Sam nodded again before asking. "So, can I go see him?" Already rising in his seat, poised ready to bolt from the room and find the one that held his brother. The doctors hand on his arm stopping him from doing just that as he asked.

"In a minute son. I just need to ask you a few questions first."

Sam's eyes darted between the doctor and the hallway that held the room Dean was taken to, back and forth, back and forth they went, stopping only when he made himself nauseous from the movement, his free hand clenching and unclenching at his side. "What do you want to ask? Cause I already told the nurse what happened to Dean."

"It has nothing to do with Dean. I just want to know if you were okay?" The doctor paused before adding. "I want to know what you're taking?"

"What? Nothing! Hospitals just make me nervous. Can I go see Dean now?"

Not satisfied with Sam's answer, but unable to press any further, the doctor gave an unwilling, reluctant nod and watched as Sam bounded off in search of his brother, calling Dean's name loudly as he did so, stopping just in time to avoid colliding into his sibling as Dean stepped from out of the exam room.

"Dean, Dean. Are you okay man? Are you in any pain? Do you need some of your meds? Cause I can go and get some. Do you need me to help you to the car?"

"Sam, chill. What the hell? What is wrong with you, dude? Your acting like Donkey out of Shrek hyped up on happy juice." When he got no response from Sam, he added. "I'm fine, I just want to get out of here."

"Out of here, right, can do. You're sure your okay to go though?"

"I'm fine Sam!" Dean growled out growing impatient with this new freaky Sam, instantly regretting it as his had protested the loudness of his voice. "Can we just get outta here? Can we just get back to the motel?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure Dean. Back to the motel, right."

Dean watched as Sam started rushing for the exit, niggling feelings that something was definitely wrong pressing on his mind, his pounding head though unwilling to allow him to think about it too much. Stopping Sam before he got too far ahead, he spoke. "Oh and Sam, I'll drive."

"But Dean. . . . . ."

Taking of the sling and shoving it into his pocket, Dean answered. "I'll drive."

**A.N. . . . . . . Hope you enjoyed, catch you soon with an update, Peanut x**


	3. Chapter 3

**Addicted.**

**Summary. . . . . . Dean****'****s hurt and Sam****'****s. . . . . . .well Sam****'****s not acting himself. Just what is wrong with the younger brother? Just what happened whilst Dean was down and out? Thanks to darksupernatural for the bunny.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . Don****'****t own Sam, Dean or the Impala, just playing with Kripkie****'****s toys.**

**A.N. . . . . . . . I'm so sorry about the wait, I kinda damaged my wrist again at work and was told to not use it! Being as it's my right one and I'm right I handed, I had to question that advice, so I spent yesterday writing and today typing. Hope that my pain was worth it, and that you enjoy the chapter. Catch you soon, Peanut x**

Sam could feel the need building up inside him once again as Dean drove down the room towards their latest hotel room. Concerned over Dean , he had managed to quell the urges that gnawed away at his insides, but now with nothing to do but watch the scenery pass by as Dean drove, almost sedately, pain evident on his features, the needs once again began to win over and this slow drive just wasn't enough to quell it. He clenched his hands into fists, relishing the pain as his nails dug into his palms, producing crimson crescents upon the skin. Unwittingly he began once again to bounce his feet against the foot well as the thirst, the craving grew in strength, compelling Dean to throw a worried glance quickly his way and ask.

"Sam, are you sure that you're okay? Did something happen back at the cemetery?"

"I'm fine! Nothing happened, why?"

"Because you're not acting like your usual emo glum moody self. What's wrong?"

"I'm fine Dean!" Sam shouted back. Whilst muttering "I'm just bored" under his breath.

Seeing the brilliant neon lights advertising good food and cold beer, Sam turned back to Dean and spoke once again. "Hey, do you want to stop for a beer?"

Looking incredulously at his brother, Dean could only snort in response. For someone who was so incredibly smart, Sam could be so dense, so stupid at times.

"What?" Sam asked, not understanding why Dean wasn't happy at the thought of a night out.

"I. Don't. Want. A. Beer. Sam!" Dean ground out.

"But why?"

"I just don't."

"But why?"

"Sam!"

"But why?""Sammy, I swear to God. . . . . . Just quit it!"

Dean relaxed as Sam seemed to get the message, turning his eyes back to the road he concentrated on getting them back to the motel. Sam though refused to allow Dean to have the last word. Mumbling under his breath another "but why?" Dean's fingers tightened around the wheel at the barely audible words, and he clenched his jaw shut to stop himself from saying words he knew would hurt and he would later regret.

As the silence once more fell between them, the tension mounted within the cars small confines. By the time they had reached the motel Dean was near breaking point. Pulling into the spot in front of their room, that breaking point nearly broke as he spotted the sleazy manager standing outside. Knowing they would have to spend at least another night or two there Dean spoke.

"Do you have any money Sam?" He asked, his anger boiling over as Sam just shook his head in answer. "Well that's just great, what the hell have you spent it on? I guess I'll just have to use most of what I have. You better hope that new card comes through soon, cause it's gonna be a rough few days until it does."

Sam winced as Dean then proceeded to get out of the car, slamming the door shut after doing so. Opening his own door Sam quietly stepped out, waiting until the manager had left before emptying their bags from the trunk and following Dean inside. Dumping the bags just inside the doorway, Sam stood nervously beside the rooms small table not willing to move and risk aggravating Dean's anger again, Dean though didn't even look Sam's way as he took off his jacket and boots before striding to the small bathroom, shooting back an "I'm having the first shower" as he closed and locked the door.

Finally able to relax Sam turned and sat on the edge of Dean's bed, the gnawing inside of him growing again, his limbs trembling with need, a need that Sam knew couldn't be quenched within this room. He stood once again and started pacing as a thought entered his head, maybe, just maybe there was a way to crush his need and make Dean happy at the same time. Striding over to Dean's bag he routed around inside quickly finding what he required and pulling it out. Taking Dean's wallet from his jacket, Sam pocketed the last of his cash before stealing a quick look at the closed bathroom door and whispering "I'll make you happy again Dean." Turning he quickly and quietly left the motel.

Dean could feel his muscles and himself relax as he allowed the steaming hot water to cascade onto his neck and down his bronzed back. His anger at Sam seeming to ebb and flow down the plug hole along with the dirt and grime he had he had accumulated from the day. Fear had made him lash out and snap at Sam; fear that something was wrong with his brother, but that he had no idea what. As the water began to turn cold, Dean resolved to himself to find out what. Turning off the water, h stepped quickly from the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, another around his hair. Opening the door and allowing steam to escape, h stepped out to talk to Sam, cursing loudly when he found the room to be empty; the curses increasing in strength and vulgarity as he quickly made his way to the small night table, their common place for notes, only to find none resting there. Looking around Dean was at least pleased to find no signs of a struggle.

"Sammy! God damn it. Where the hell have you gone?" He shouted at the empty room, his eyes finally settling on his disturbed duffle. Walking over he took a quick look inside, his eyes widening as realization set in and he figured out exactly what his brother was up to. Pulling boxers, jeans and a t-shirt over his still glistening body, Dean quickly added boots over sockless feet, and his jacket before striding towards the door, stopping on his way to add his gun to his waistband and a knife to his jacket pocket, before leaving. Stepping outside, Dean decided no matter what things would get ugly as he spotted the empty parking spot and his beloved Impala missing. Unwilling to wait for a cab, Dean reluctantly set off on foot.

The minute Sam set foot through the door of what turned out to be a dirty greasy bar, nowhere near as appealing as it had looked from the road. He could feel the nervous energy begin to release it's hold on his body. Spotting what he needed at the back of the dimly lit room, Sam turned his head the other way, feeling the need for a drink before the fun really started. Finding an empty spot at the bar he waited to be spotted, stopping himself from ordering his usual beer when he finally was, choosing instead a straight jagermeister; downing it in one before ordering two more. Chugging back the second he paid the tender before carrying the third to the back of the room.

"Do you have room for one more?" He asked as he reached his destination.

"Depends if you have the cash." A voice from the other side of the table replied. Flashing the small wad of cash he had stolen from Dean was enough for a seat to be made and for Sam to join the game.

It took Dean longer than he had anticipated to reach what was little more than a dive of a biker bar, his fury having risen along the way as the heavens had decided to open, unleashing gallons of water as he had trudged along. Opening the door, he recoiled from the smell of dirty grease, smoke and stale sweat, once again feeling that something was definitely wrong if Sam had ventured inside. Taking a deep breath he stepped through the doorway, his eyes immediately searching for his brother's form and for any signs of trouble or a threat.

Not seeing Sam at the bar, his eyes scanned further passing over the little used dance floor, the solitary pool table, and finally settling on the green of the poker table right at the back, and the back of Sam's unruly hair covered head. Walking over Dean's eyes continued to scan the place, a deep feeling of unease mounting, motivating him to search out escape routes and the people most likely to cause trouble, that done he focussed his attention once more back onto Sam and the poker game taking place, his features taking on a dangerous edge as he noted the pile of cash placed on the table and the Impala keys resting atop. Taking the final few steps to the table he hollered. "Sam! What the fuck?"

Sam turned at the sound of Dean's voice, his face filled with glee. "Dean, it's okay. I'm winning and look I have a great hand." He shouted, showing his brother the three kings, two tens he had, causing the others around the table to groan and immediately fold, having already been caught out enough by the newcomers good hands.

"That's great Sam, but we need to leave. Collect your winnings and lets go."

"Okay Dean." Sam obediently replied, his cravings quashed for the night, and his mood soaring at his apparent cheering up of his brother. Standing h quickly pocketed his cash and tossed the Impala keys Dean's way. Picking up what remained of his sixth drink he quickly knocked it back before slamming the glass back down. As h turned to leave he was caught by surprise as a burly hand grabbed his arm, gripping him tightly. Wondering why he turned back only to come face to face with a seriously pissed off biker. Sam winced as the shirt covering his arm was roughly pulled back, revealing the cards he had stashed there.

"We don't take well to cheats in here!" The biker spat out before bringing his other arm up and slamming his fist into Sam's face.

**A.N. . . . . . As always thank you all for reading, will be back soon with a new chapter, catch you later, Peanut x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Addicted.**

**Summary. . . . . . Dean's hurt and Sam. . . . . . Well Sam's not acting himself. Just what is wrong with the younger brother? Just what happened in the cemetery whilst Dean was down and out? **

**Disclaimer. . . . . . . Don't belong to me, so please don't sue!**

**A.N. . . . . . . Sorry about the wait for this chapter, my wrist is better but no I'm full of the flu. I should add also that I'm off to Winnipeg with work and will be away for two weeks. I'm taking my laptop with me and hope to get something posted while I'm gone but just thought I'd forewarn you in case I can't. That being said I hope that you enjoy chapter 4, catch you later, Peanut x**

Sam's head snapped back from the force of the bikers blow, and he swore he felt bone crunch as the mans powerful, extremely powerful fist connected with his cheek. Stars danced before his eyes and his head began to drum to a jazz beat, adding that to the amount of alcohol he had consumed and Sam knew he should be feeling like crap; yet for some reason he wasn't, he was feeling great, euphoric almost, consumed with a heady rush that coursed and tingled throughout his body, so much so he couldn't help the smile that graced his face, a smile that seemed to aggravate the biker all the more.

The feeling of complete and utter bliss though didn't last. Needing, wanting to feel that rush, that pleasure once more, Sam knew what he needed to do. Widening his smile, Sam blatantly began to tease his opponent. Comments spewed from his mouth, their content coarse and in bad taste, growing in foulness until it garnered the reaction he required. He doubled over this time, a groan of pain escaping his mouth as the big mans fist struck his ribs this time, a groan of pain that quickly turned into pleasure as adrenaline began rushing through his veins. Desperate to feel more of that rush, that high Sam began to retaliate.

Keys in hand, Dean had turned his back on Sam eager to leave and find out what was going through his brothers head. Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on edge, he began to turn back catching the exact moment one of the players spoke calling Sam a cheat, and bringing his fist up and smashing it into his brothers face. Furious at the fact that his brother had been hit, Dean moved to help only to be stopped by two of the bikers even bigger buddies.

"I wouldn't if you know what's good for you!" One of them stated as the other went to grab his good hand.

Dean's mind, caught between helping Sam and dishing out some punishment of his own hesitated; Incredulous to hear Sam start to goad the man holding him. As he watched his brother start to retaliate, Dean acted. Grounding out an "I think I will" he stepped quickly to the side pulling the burly biker holding him with him, as he brought his foot up and placed a well aimed, full weighted heel at the other bikers knee. Howling in pain the second guy fell to the floor, leaving himself wide open to Dean's boot clad foot. A quick kick to the face and the man was out.

Turning to deal with the guy who still held his arm in a vice like grip, Dean realized the immediately the daunting task Sam had created as yet more bikers began to inch their way forward eager to help their friends; no longer liking the odds Dean knew he had to end this quickly. Pulling along the biker still attached to his arm, Dean edged closer to where he knew Sam was, hoping that once there, he could take his man down, grab his brother and make a swift get away through the exit he had spotted earlier.

Sam though, once Dean had reached him, had other ideas. Still battling away with his original goon, he had been joined by three others and was now facing threats from all sides, and enjoying every second. Bleeding profusely from a gash to his head, his nose, cheek and mouth; mottled bruises already showing signs of erupting and his stance carefully protecting his left side; Sam still wore a grin of pleasure, still goaded on his opponents, still groaned in desire whenever a blow landed.

After calling his name numerous times, yet gaining no response, Dean knew drastic measures were in order. Pulling out his gun he fired off a shot into the ceiling. Grabbing Sam roughly by the shirt he began pulling him towards the exit, through the throngs of now panicking onlookers, paying little attention as Sam grunted once more in pain, his leg buckling beneath him, his body almost falling to the floor before Dean's momentum pulled him back.

Dean pulled in a lungful of the clean, crisp night air once they had finally broke free of the building, before dragging his lumbering sibling towards the Impala that stood glistening in the light of the moon. Roughly shoving Sam towards the passenger side he made his way to the drivers, opening the door for Sam once he had climbed inside and ordering him to "hurry the hell up and get in" before gunning the big engine and peeling out of the lot in a plume of dirt and dust.

Worried about followers looking for some payback Dean drove in the opposite direction for a good few miles before detouring back towards the motel once he knew they had no tails. Seriously pissed at Sam and this new found attitude of his, he avoided talking, or even looking his brothers way, choosing instead to concentrate on the road. Common sense told him that they should be worried about retribution, that it wouldn't be long before the bikers figured out where they were staying and would come looking for revenge.

"We're packing up Sam. Bobby's house is only two hours away, we'll hole up there for a few days so that we can figure out what's going on in that head of yours." He paused for a few seconds before anger made him add. "God damn it Sam! What the hell were you thinking? You're acting like a stupid rookie, do you want to get yourself killed?" The anger he had been feeling at Sam's recklessness rose even further at Sam's continued silence. "So that's how you want to play this? The old silent treatment? Fine! Well two can play at that game." Pressing down further on the gas Dean pushed the engine harder eager now to get packed and put this town behind them.

It took over an hour before Dean finally pulled the big beast into the spot reserved for them in front of their room, numerous circles around the block adding to the time it would normally take as he cautiously made sure there was no unwelcome visitors lurking around. Having spoken no further words to Sam and receiving none from his brother, Dean was beginning to hate the silence, and was regretting shouting at Sam now that his anger had simmered once more.

He turned towards the passenger seat and really looked at his sibling for the first time since leaving the bar, not surprised in the least to Sam sleeping. Dean's anger threatened to rise again at the thought that Sam could rest at a time like this, but then he began to notice just how crap his brother actually looked. His face was crusted with dry blood, some still oozing out of the gash on his head. Mottled bruises now stood vivid on the parts of his features not covered in crimson, pain lines evident even in his sleeping state.

Deciding to let Sam sleep off what ever was effecting him, Dean quietly opened the door and rushed inside to gather their few belongings, haphazardly throwing items into their duffels in his haste to get to Bobby's and further away from this town, hopeful that once there he could gather some much needed answers; only relaxing in his actions when the neon from the motels sign was nothing but a blur in the rear view mirror.

So concerned with the thoughts of the bikers getting payback, he failed to notice that Sam hadn't moved an inch.

**A.N. . . . . . . I hope it was okay? Thanks as always for reading, Peanut x**


	5. Chapter 5

**Addicted.**

**Summary. . . . . . Dean's hurt and Sam. . . . . . Well Sam's not acting himself. Just what happened in the cemetery whilst Dean was down? And just what is wrong with Sam now?**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . . Don't belong to me, so please don't sue!**

**A.N. . . . . Sorry this is sooooo late, try learning hydraulics, gas motors, pressure washers, water pumps and air compressors, welding and trailer and towing in ten days and write and type a fic too! Hard work! I hope you'll forgive me for the wait and that you'll enjoy what is going to be a short chapter. I'll make up for it when I get back, catch you soon, Peanut x**

Sitting on the step of his porch, Bobby rested a beer on his knees as he waited for the Winchester boys to show up, having received a cryptic call from Dean earlier telling him of their immanent arrival . Judging from the slight edge to the elder siblings voice, Bobby immediately ascertained that there had been some trouble; yet try as he might, he could not garner a response to any of his inquires as to what was wrong, only getting a "We'll be there soon" for all his efforts. Wanting to get to the bottom of Dean's evasiveness as soon as possible, Bobby had grabbed his beer, and his jacket and set up home on his stoop.

He shivered slightly as the night time wind changed direction and blasted it's cold tendrils across his body, wondering, not for the first time, why he hadn't chosen to wait inside where he could be warm and researching, but that edge to Dean's voice creeping back into his mind, crawling like an unscratchable itch wanting, needing attention. So even though he was cold and uncomfortable, he continued to wait, dropping his beer bottle to the side and pulling his collar up around his neck and wrapping his arms just that little bit tighter around his body.

It was another thirty minutes or so before he began to hear the familiar rumble of the Impala's engine break the deadening silence of the night, before slowly emerging through the gates and the piles of rusted cars that littered Singer salvage. Beer now completely forgotten Bobby rose, eager to find out what had worried Dean so, and made his way over to the still coming to a stop car. Tapping on the drivers window once Dean had turned the beasts engine off, Bobby waited for the older sibling to open the door before asking.

"Hey Dean, son. What's going on?" Before Dean could answer he added. "Don't ya try and tell me nothing, I've known ya long enough now to know when something is bothering ya. So spill, what's happened?"

Exhausted to the point of collapsing, the day and nights events finally catching up with him and seeping away the last of his reserves, Dean prayed that Bobby would acquiesce as he motioned to Sam before saying. "Later Bobby. I need you to help me with Sam, I don't want to wake him but I need to get him inside and I don't think I can do it alone."

Bobby whistled both in agreement and amazement as his eyes finally landed on the youngest Winchester, with his bloody and bruised features. "What the hell? What happened to Sam? Did ya hunt go wrong?"

"Once he's inside I promise I'll tell you and maybe you can figure out what's going on. For now though, please just help me move him?"

Bobby went to move to the passenger side, stopping suddenly when the moon finally crept from behind a cloud and cast it's glow illuminating the cars interior, the older hunter's keen eye immediately picking up the glistening patch on Sam's leg.

"Dean? Are ya sure he's sleeping?" As Dean looked up Bobby pointed to the growing discoloration spreading across Sam's slightly turned denim clad thigh. All exhaustion, all weariness vanished at the sight of his siblings blood. Hastily ripping off his seat belt, Dean turned and began tapping Sam's face, calling out his name at the same time hoping to garner some sort of response.

"Bobby!" Dean shouted out. "Help me, please?" He begged, his mind already playing the blame game. Why hadn't he noticed this? Why hadn't he checked Sam more closely? Why hadn't he realized something was wrong? He shifted as Bobby wrenched open the passenger door, ready to move his stricken sibling, gagging and almost losing his lunch when he finally moved Sam's legs and caught sight of the amount of blood Sam had lost; crimson rivulets seeping into the cracks of the old leather upholstery. "Oh God." He mumbled before steadying himself and helping Bobby.

Once inside and upstairs they lay Sam on his stomach on the bed he usually occupied. Panting heavily from the exertion of carrying the six foot four, deceptively heavy youngest Winchester, both men shook off their lethargy and set to work; Dean removing Sam's sodden jeans, as Bobby raced for the first aid kit. Dean winced in sympathy as he wrangled the denim of his brother's legs and finally revealed the two inch knife wound hacked into Sam's thigh. Yet more blame took root within his mind as realization that Sam could have died settled heavily within him. Battling with thoughts of what the hell was going on? He pushed aside all thoughts, fears and blame as Bobby rushed back in, focusing all his attention on fixing Sam back up.

It was a somber, exhausted Dean who some time later sat, with his elbows resting on his knees, his face buried in his hands, on the other bed that occupied the room. Looking up with heavy lidded eyes, he followed the trail of the IV line that snaked down from a hook in the wall and into Sam's arm, pumping a lifeline of blood, taken from himself, into his sibling. Washed up and stitched up, Sam still looked like crap, his skin only now beginning to turn back from the ashen color it had taken up. He jumped slightly as the bed shifted beside him, and a glass of water appeared in front of him.

"What's going on Dean?" Bobby asked after sitting in silence for a few minutes.

"He could have died Bobby. He could have died and I would have never even noticed. How could I not notice him bleeding out beside me? I was so angry and pissed I never saw what was right before my eyes. How could I do that?" Dean answered, his eyes taking on the expressiveness that Sam was known for, tears brimming at the edges.

"But he didn't. You saved him and he's gonna be fine." Bobby allowed Dean some time to take in what he had said knowing that, unlike Sam, for Dean his few words would be enough. "You mentioned that you needed my help to figure something out. What's been going on, son?"

The tears he had been holding back spilled over as Dean finally told Bobby everything that had happened since the cemetery, and his fears that something was seriously wrong with Sam. He stared, with hopeful eyes, Bobby's way when he had finished, asking the older hunter. "Can you help? Do you have any ideas cause I'm fresh out and worrying like hell over here?"

"I'm not sure, I'll have to look into it more, I have some ideas though." Bobby replied, trying his best to portray a positivity he didn't feel; the possibilities were in fact numerous. Standing up he decided to get straight to work, taking a quick glance at Dean as he went. Disappointed, but not surprised, that the older Winchester had seen through his ruse. Walking out with more determination, Bobby knew he had to find the answers. Two life's depended on it.

**A.N. . . . . . Well that's it for now, hope it was okay. Thanks as always for reading, will catch you soon, Peanut x**


	6. Chapter 6

**Addicted**

**Summary. . . . . . Dean's hurt and Sam's. . . . . . .well Sam's not acting himself. Just what is wrong with the younger brother? Just what happened whilst Dean was down and out? Thanks to darksupernatural for the bunny.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . Don't own Sam, Dean or the Impala, just playing with Kripkie's toys.**

**A.N. . . . . . . Hey, well this is later than I wanted it to be coming out, but needs must and overtime at work couldn't be missed. Just in case I don't get another chapter out before hand, have a very happy and safe Christmas. Hope you enjoy, Peanut x**

"You can't keep doing this, Dean!" Sam shouted out as he stumbled his way back to the bed, he'd woken up in two days earlier, from th**e **bathroom where Dean had watched him go about his business. Thoroughly pissed off with Dean's new found obsession, Sam tried to slam the bedroom door closed in an effort to keep Dean out, only to have his brother force it back open.

"Keep doing what Sammy?"

"You know what Dean. You can't keep watching me twenty four seven! You can't keep treating me like a little child! There's nothing wrong with me, I'm fine! And it's Sam!" Sam whined as he climbed back under the covers, pulling them over his head in an attempt to at least hide from Dean's gaze, even if he couldn't hide from his presence. Ever since he had woken up tired, confused and in pain, Dean hadn't allowed him a single second alone. If Sam moved so did Dean; if Sam wanted to go anywhere, Dean insisted on following; if Sam ate, Dean watched. Slowly the constant companion act, the feeling of having an extra limb, grated away at Sam's nerves; the watching of him relieving himself was the straw that finally broke Sam's last reserve, causing him to lash out.

That wasn't the only reason for his outburst though. The itch, the need, the yearning had been building every second since his awakening, consuming his very existence. He couldn't sleep, his pasty complexion and slowly growing bags and dark circles under his eyes a testament to that. He barely ate, masking his efforts by shredding his food and pushing it listlessly around his plate, managing to fool both Dean and Bobby into thinking he was consuming enough, but the slackening of his jeans on his waist was indicating the wasting away of his body. He needed to break free, to get away from Dean, to receive the jolt that pushed all other feeling aside and left him feeling extraordinary and sated and happy.

"Sam, come on man talk to me, please." Dean implored from th other side of side of Sam's cotton barricade, the words never reaching Sam's ears though, as his thoughts were taken else where.

Carefully, slowly, showing hardly any sign of movement at all, Sam began to slide his hand up under his pillow until cold hard steel brushed against his calloused fingertips. Unbeknownst to Dean, he had managed to sneak a small pocket knife under there soon after he had woken, using it almost hourly ever since to quench the hunger, the need that resided within him. It wasn't enough though, the rush it gave not powerful enough to last very long, enticing Sam to cut more often, more deeper to gain more of those few moments of lucidity.

He found himself thankful for the long sleeves he always wore when the cuts grew in number on his arms, the lines crisscrossing in parts, when the skin there grew too tender he started on his thighs. Every time he went to the bathroom, or ventured outside of his bed, Sam found himself breathing a heavy sigh of relief thankful for Dean's continued ignorance of his destruction; yet at the same time each time he prayed that ths would be the time Dean would see, that Dean would notice, the sick part of his mind already relishing the huge rush that would produce. But so far Dean had seen nothing, so Sam kept cutting.

He sighed quietly, blissfully under the covers as the knife sliced easily through his skin, years of Winchester training ensuring the blade was always kept super sharp, the rush the action produced over riding the pain the action caused him. The need though still remained refusing to be conquered. Bringing the knife back, Sam sliced again digging deeper this time hoping to garner that little bit more. In his unbalanced state though Sam pressed to hard and found himself unable to suppress the groan that escaped from his lips. He lay there heart thumping from the bliss coursing through his veins, hoping that Dean hadn't heard; yet at the same time again wishing that he had.

He should have known better, should have realized that Dean would have heard, this his one job in life had always been to watch out for him, that Dean had become so accustomed to doing just that, his senses were attuned to hear even the briefest hint of pain. So Sam shouldn't have been surprised when Dean threw back the covers and asked, or rather shouted "Sam what the hell are you doing?" But Sam was.

Two days. Two days, twelve hours and thirty six minutes to be exact. That's how long Dean had been dogging his brothers every movement, trying constantly to get Sam to open up to him, to let him know what was going on, to let him know how he could help, but Sam's stubborn Winchester streak had surfaced and Dean had been lucky if he could get any response at all; well bar the usual Winchester motto of "I'm fine." In fact Sam's last outburst was the most Sam had spoken since the incident at the bar, and that lack of not talking, of not being able to help, to do his job was beginning to grate on Dean's last nerves.

It didn't help that he'd had to sit through two agonizing days of a drug filled Sam's recovery, fearing every second would be his brother's last; or that Bobby had spent the last four days frantically searching for answers, answers that had of yet remained hidden. All that added together created a seriously cranky Dean. A Dean who was ready to explode.

Sitting on the other bed in the room, Dean forced his anger down as yet again Sam refused to talk, shutting him out completely, hiding beneath the blankets of his bed like a retreating tortoise. Elbows on knees, chin resting in his hands, Dean could do nothing but sit, wait and keep pushing, hoping that Sam would eventually back down. Tears sprang to his eyes as he wished fervently that their Dad was still alive, that their Dad was there to help, to take away some of the uselessness that Dean felt. He grinned wryly as remembered fights between the two played out within his mind, God what he wouldn't give to hear one of those right now, anything to break up the silence.

His mind was brought back to the present as his senses prickled, his eyes and ears becoming alert for the slightest movement or sound, when none was forthcoming he started to drift again, only to startle again seconds later as his ears picked up Sam's gasp of pain. Big brother mode well and truly kicking in he crossed the distance between them in one stride before throwing back the covers, only to reel slightly from the sight that greeted him.

"Sam! What the hell are you doing?" He yelled when his brain caught back up with him, not caring that Sam cringed from the loudness of his voice, not seeing that once the shock had of being caught had gone Sam's face took on a look of pure bliss. Just seeing the cuts, the knife, the blood, the redness of which equalled Dean's rage.

"You stupid, selfish bastard!" Dean cried out again. "I can't believe that you would be so . . . . . . . . . . so . . . . . . . . . so fucking dumb!" Grabbing the knife out of Sam's lax fingers, Dean opened his mouth to lay into Sam again only to stop as Bobby's voiced drifted up the stairs.

"Dean. I think I've found the answer."

Taking one last look at his brother, Dean turned to head out of the bedroom, praying as he went that Bobby wasn't wrong, that the answers had indeed been found.

**A.N. . . . . . . Well, that's all folks! Hope that it was okay for you, will be back with an update soon. Thank you all as always for reading, catch you later, Peanut x**


	7. Chapter 7

**Addicted**

**Summary. . . . . . Dean's hurt and Sam. . . . . . Well Sam's not acting himself. Just what happened in the cemetery whilst Dean was down? And just what is wrong with Sam now?**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . . Don't belong to me, so please don't sue!**

**A.N. . . . . . Well I've been off work today after spending most of last night coughing my guts up, in between sleeping I got bored so took some time and managed to get another chapter out. Hope you enjoy, Peanut x**

Dean hurried down the hallway and descended down the stairs three at a time in his rush to find out if Bobby had indeed figured out the help Sam needed. Heading into what had once been Bobby's dining room, Dean wasn't surprised to see the older hunter sat behind the desk that took up most of the room's far wall, books of various sizes and age surrounding him.

"Please tell me that you figured out what is going on? Please tell me that you know what's wrong with Sam?" Dean asked as he came to a halt beside the desk.

Bobby looked up as Dean spoke, immediately noticing the extra hint of anxiety that hadn't been present earlier. Seeing the almost panicked look in the oldest Winchester's eyes, he inquired. "What's happened?" At seeing Dean's hesitation he added. "Damn it Dean! I'm here to help. You aint alone son. Let me help."

Dean hesitated once again before realizing Bobby was right, he couldn't do this alone, he needed help this was getting too much. Taking a deep breath he spoke. "Sam."

"What about Sam? Is he still complaining about your guard dog routine?"

"He's. . . . . . . .He's been hurting himself. Cutting himself." Dean stammered out.

"He's what?" Bobby replied thinking that he had misheard, his head unable to believe what he thought Dean had said.

"He's been cutting himself. I just caught him doing it." Dean paused as his emotions got the better of him. As his tears began to fall he added. "I don't know how to help him with this Bobby, so I'm begging you please tell me you have the answers."

Knowing Dean's reluctance to any form of physical comfort, Bobby chose to reassure Dean the only way he knew the boy would appreciate. "I think so. I had to look into Madeleine Merchant's past, and when I say past I mean past, she lived around the turn of the last century. She moved to Rockwood Falls from god knows where, right from the day she arrived in the town she was labeled as weird, strange, freaky even, but she wasn't a witch, well at least not then. Other residents chose to treat her with contempt of just plain ignore her, so she in turn kept to herself only leaving the house on the far outskirts of town if need arose."

"She doesn't seem that bad, what happened to turn her into the wack job, nut ghost me and Sam met?"

"Well it appears that she fell in love with the son of the towns mayor, only the feeling wasn't mutual, she tried everything to get him to like her; her attempts getting more and more outrageous and adrenaline pumping each time. Yet no matter what she did, the guy Michael continued to ignore her. It was then that she turned to black magic, becoming an expert quickly in curses and potions, trying her new found powers on others before trying it on the love of her life."

"What happened?"

"It worked. He fell in love with her, but like all black magic the love came with a price, a catch, her love became as she was before; addicted to the rush, the high of adrenaline."

"Just like Sam!" Dean shouted out as he finally figured things out. "That would explain the speed, the drinking, the fights, even the cutting." Dean paused as another thought struck. "Bobby? What happened? What happened to the guy?"

Bobby swallowed hard, not willing to answer straight away, yet knowing he really couldn't put it off. "He died, Dean. One of his stunts went too far and he died. Knowing that she was ultimately the cause sent Madeleine crazy and she followed soon after."

"Is that what's gonna happen to Sam? Is he gonna carry on doing this crazy shit until one of his stunts backfires? Is he Bobby?" Dean asked worriedly.

Again Bobby hesitated before answering. "Yes" quickly adding. "But I know how to break the curse now Dean, it wont come to that, I promise you."

Dean desperately held onto Bobby's promise, unwilling to believe that he could lose Sam yet again. "I still don't get it Bobby, this job was supposed to be just a simple haunting, a restless spirit, a salt and burn. What the hell went wrong? Why did she attack Sam?"

"I don't know son, and I don't think we'll ever know. I can only presume that she didn't want to go, that she wouldn't leave her love knowing that they wouldn't meet up again, and that's why she fought back using the only weapon she knew how to use in an attempt to stay, a curse."

Both men fell into an uncomfortable silence as they thought over Bobby's words, Dean eventually breaking it by asking. "What do we have to do to break it?"

"Well I have all the ingredients here, I just need to translate the ritual, that just leaves something of Sam's; some hair would be best."

"That's it?"

"That's it!"

"It seems too easy."

"Sometimes supernatural things are. Now you go and get the hair whilst I get the ingredients and start the translation."

Dean turned quickly on his knees and practically ran from the room in his eagerness to finish this, he paused on the threshold though to look back at the older hunter he now considered to be family and mumbled a "thank you" before taking the stairs as quickly as he descended them earlier; a genuine smile, all be it small, gracing his lips for the first time since this sorry tale had started.

Reaching the top of the stairs he enthusiastically began calling Sam's name, wanting, needing to share the good news with his sibling, only to turn into their shared room and find it empty. The smile quickly left his face at the sight of Sam's empty bed. Turning Dean checked the bathroom and Bobby's room hoping that Sam was just playing some stupid game of hide and seek, but yet again both rooms stood empty.

Turning to face the last room on the landing Dean hesitated, it was the room their Dad had used whenever he had stayed there and he hadn't ventured inside since his passing. Thoughts of Sam hurting himself though forced him to turn the handle and push the door open, only to find the room once again empty, it's window thrown open, it's curtains billowing in the cold winter breeze.

**A.N. . . . . . . Well that's it for now, I hope the quick post makes up for the shortness. Will be back soon with a new chapter, thanks as always for reading, Peanut x**


	8. Chapter 8

**Addicted.**

**Summary. . . . . . Dean's hurt and Sam. . . . . . Well Sam's not acting himself. Just what happened in the cemetery whilst Dean was down? And just what is wrong with Sam now?**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . . Don't belong to me, so please don't sue!**

**A.N. . . . . . . . Wow, I'll have to get sick more often, three new posts within one week. That has to be a record for me. Anyhow, as always I hope that you enjoy, catch you later, Peanut x**

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Dean ground out as he stood looking at the still gently blowing curtains. Breaking out of his reverie, he turned and headed back down the landing to the stairs, bellowing out Bobby's name as he went, the older hunter coming to the bottom of the stairs in response to Dean's loud hails.

"Dean, what the hell are ya hollerin about? What's wrong now?" He inquired, looking on in concern as Dean stumbled down the stairs.

"He's gone! The god damn stupid son of a bitch has left."

"What do you mean he's left? How the hell has he left? He would have had to have passed us, we would have seen him. He must still be upstairs, in the bathroom or something." Bobby replied.

"Do you not think I've checked there? Do you not think I've searched? He's gone!" Dean shouted back.

"B. . . . . but how?"

"Through the window of Dad's old room. It's where I would always sneak out of when we were younger to go see Jenny May in town, Sam figured out your system long ago. All he would have to do would be to drop down onto the water barrel. Though how would he have done that in his condition?" Dean paused briefly before adding. "What will we do now? You said that you needed him to do this, how are we going to do the ritual without him?"

"I said I needed part of him, not the whole of him, just a few strands of hair will do. I'm sure there must be a few strands of his mop somewhere here. I'll go and have a look, and then get started whilst you go find and prevent that stubborn brother of yours from doing something he will regret."

"But where will I start looking, it's too dark to track him?" Dean inquired, his thoughts still muddled by Bobby's revelation and Sam's running away.

"Think Dean! Where would you have gone as kids? Is there anywhere that you went to as children that would provide Sam with the thrill that he needs?"

Dean thought back to the happier times he and Sam had spent here, sometimes for whole summers whilst their Dad hunted; the hikes they had taken when the weather permitted; the rope swings they had constructed that swung out over the streams that branched off the river that bordered Bobby's property; the dares that were so wild at times neither boy had the guts to go through with them, most of them forgotten by the time they returned to Bobby's tired but happy. Dean's eyes opened fearfully, his head shooting up as one particular dare that seemed to crop up every year sprung into his mind, and he knew without a doubt just where Sam had gone.

"Oh crap, no! Please no!"

"What? What is it Dean?"

"I know where he is! I know how he plans to get his rush! He's headed for the river, remember we used to play there all the time when we were younger?"

"But Dean, you played there in the summer when the levels were down, at this time of year it's not a place to be messing around what with all the rains draining into it from the hills."

"Shit! Bobby I have to go stop him. You have to get started we don't have much time left. You might find what you're looking for on Sam's brush, it's in his duffle. Hurry Bobby, please." Dean shouted out the last sentence as he rushed out the door, the urgency to get to Sam magnifying with each passing second.

Sam stole easily away from his bed, years of restless nights spent here allowing him to stealthily avoid the creaking floor boards he had found out the old house was riddled with. Quietly easing open the door to their Dad's old room, he closed it behind him before crossing over to the window. He made quick work of disabling the alarms and other security features Bobby had created, smiling smugly as the window pushed out, the flow of cool air that rushed in invigorating him, chasing away the pain that riddled his body, urging him to push on.

The surge was waning though and the need was once again increasing, the want growing taking control once again. Sliding his long legs over the sill, Sam eased his way out, ignoring the aches that spiked as he gingerly used the spout and lowered himself to the water barrel. He used the pain this time, as his damaged leg protested being landed on, using it to spur him on, knowing that he didn't have much time before Dean discovered him gone. He took a few seconds to catch his breath before he lumbered off into the darkness, his mind already consumed by the thoughts of the high his destination would produce.

Dean thought that in Sam's weakened condition he would have caught up to his brother quite easily, but as the thunderous roar of the swollen river reached his ears he still hadn't even caught a glimpse. His eyes frantically scoured the banks that sloped steeply down to the water for further signs, but was once again disappointed when he saw nothing of Sam, until that was he moved his eyes to the bridge that stood some thirty feet up river, it's arches spreading gracefully across the torrent that raged a hundred feet beneath it.

Standing in the middle of the bridge stood Sam, is stance speaking volumes to Dean. His brother looked mesmerized. As Dean watched further, for a moment transfixed, his heart jumped into his mouth as Sam began to climb onto the bridges stone walls. Taking off at a run, his eyes still trained on Sam, Dean raced for the bridge with only one thought in mind, save Sam. He felt as though he had never run so fast in his life as he strode up the foliage strewn pathway, the wet leaves slippy causing him to almost fall over on occasion. He was breathing hard as he finally set foot on the tarmac covered road, but didn't slow down his need to get to Sam over ruling all other feelings. Only when he reached his sibling did his gait ease, not wanting to distract Sam into falling.

"Sam? Sam please come down." Dean whispered out afraid that any loud noise would startle him. "Bobby's working on this, you don't have to do this, please come down."

Instead of being startled, Sam turned with a look of glee on his face and merriment lacing his voice as he answered. " Why Dean? It's great up here, I feel so alive. There's nothing wrong with me."

"Sam please, there is something wrong with you, you've been cursed, you're not yourself. Please just come down, we can fix this, please." Dean begged, his vision blurring as wetness sprung into his eyes. "Sammy please."

"Dean, it's great up here and it's gonna get even better when I finally finish the dare that you kept making all those years ago."

"Sam please, you don't have to do this." Dean begged again, his eyes imploring, his hand reaching out for Sam's.

"No Dean, I want to do this, I have to do this." Sam replied, stepping out of his brothers reach, one foot slipping sending him off balance. Dean's breathing stopped as Sam swayed dangerously before managing to regain his footing, laughing hysterically whilst doing so.

Reaching out again, his own agitation increasing exponentially Dean pleaded. "Sam please, it's not safe, come down." Only to have Sam dance even further away.

Dean couldn't believe his luck as the mild weather suddenly took a turn for the worse, the heavens opening drenching the two brothers in seconds. As the wind began to pick up and a chill descended, Dean finally realized that Bobby's ritual was finally working. He stepped closer to his brother as lightening lit up the sky, causing Sam to become unbalanced yet again. He had a bad feeling about this, the sense of dread clenching a knot in his stomach so tight he thought he was going to throw up. Seconds away from reaching Sam, Winchester luck struck again as the curse was finally broken and a bolt of lightening struck the stone wall inches from Sam's feet, sending him reeling back, his feet slipping off the ledge and his body tumbling of the edge; a cry for Dean falling from his lips.

**A.N. . . . . . . A supernatural cliffy Christmas present, how nasty! Apart from that I hope it was okay. Thanks as always for reading, will catch you soon, Peanut x**


	9. Chapter 9

**Addicted.**

**Summary. . . . . . Dean****'****s hurt and Sam****'****s. . . . . . .well Sam****'****s not acting himself. Just what is wrong with the younger brother? Just what happened whilst Dean was down and out? Thanks to darksupernatural for the bunny.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . Don****'****t own Sam, Dean or the Impala, just playing with Kripkie****'****s toys.**

**A.N. . . . . . I wanted to take time to wish everyone a very prosperous and happy New Year, and to thank you all for your support throughout the previous one. Have a great and safe night whatever you may be doing, and I'll catch you all in 2009. **

It seemed like hours, but it was literally only minutes** . **Standing on the bridge he'd felt tall and proud and so much happier than he had felt in a very long time, if only Dean could see that; but no his brother seemed determined to spoil his fun, causing Sam to step further away from him and closer to the edge, and that's when things started to change. It was small at first, so small in fact that he chose to ignore it. A small break in the euphoria that filled his mind, the first hints of pain making themselves be known in his body, after that things got gradually worse. Lethargy enveloped him like a heavy down duvet, causing him to wobble from pure exhaustion. Red hot spikes of pain lanced his skull as a migraine that rivalled any of his visions thumped a constant beat in his head, the happiness that had been a constant in his life vanished, leaving him beat, broken, and bereaved; the jump and water below now looking inviting for different reasons.

He stole a quick glance at the swirling, cascading mass below, it's musical sound beckoning him in, yet still he paused something much stronger pulling him the other way, a feeling; a feeling that had been such a constant in his life even when he had been so far away from the source. Love. Dean was here, Dean could help him, Dean could give him the answers to the questions that ravaged him mind. He turned back ready to climb back down, ready to start healing, to start mending in both body and mind. He gasped as a particularly strong spike of pain rushed though him; started as a blinding white flash struck the bridge beside him; felt fear as he stumbled and what was once solidness beneath his feet became nothing but air and gravity began to push him towards the raging water. He cried out Dean's name, hoping that he could convey in just that one word, his sorrow and regret and thanks, and then he felt nothing but the cold night air rushing past his face.

Nothing until a short abrupt wrench, a soft pop and a pain unlike any other. His vision clouded, his body on the verge of passing out, yet a small vestige of memory surfaced from deep within him; Dean was hurt. Sam knew without a doubt that Dean had caught him; knew without a doubt that his brother would try to pull him up; but he knew also that Dean was injured. Fighting back the darkness, Sam looked up into the eyes of his brother, his best friend, his hero, and witnessed the determination to save him radiating from them. He tried to help, tried to find the strength from within himself to push his body up, but he was just too hurt, too exhausted. Releasing his fingers from Dean's wrist he waited; waited for the rush of cold air and the feeling of weightlessness; waited for the sharp cold of the water to hit.

Dean watched in horror as Sam stumbled and fell, losing vital seconds as his brain failed to send signals to his body to move. Breaking free from the stupor that held him he rushed forward, every step seeming to feel like he was pushing through an invisible barrier, like he was a cartoon moving in slow motion whilst the world around him sped by. He slammed into the solid brick side of the bridge, throwing body over as far as possible, and his arms out, a sense of dread crushing down on him as he thought he had missed, relief pushing that aside when his fingers brushed cotton, automatically he clenched his fingers around. What felt like yards of material burned across his palm until at last his hand gripped enough to stop Sam's descent, causing Dean to clench all the tighter and hold onto his brother for dear life.

Dean blanched and almost lost his lunch as he felt the violent jerk resound up Sam's arm and through his own; felt the agony of his own damaged arm protesting the weight, and the grind of bones against stone as his ribs bashed harshly into the unforgiving brick wall; but all that agony faded as he felt and heard the sickening pop of Sam's shoulder break free from it's socket. He fought back his tears of sorrow and pain in order to see Sam, needing to look into his brother's eyes, to see for himself regardless of what he had just felt that Sam was still there; that the cloth, and flesh, and bone he could feel beneath his fingers weren't just a figment of his imagination. Feelings of elation flowed though his body as he looked into Sam's frightened gaze, feelings that evaporated as realization of the danger they were both in crashed down on him. He looked at Sam again, his mouth opening ready to tell him everything was going to be okay, only for the words to stick in his throat as the look in Sam's eyes turned from terror, to regret, to helplessness. Sam was giving up, that sentiment reiterated as he felt his brother's fingers loosen their grip on his own wrist, leaving only Dean's limited strength the only thing stopping him from falling.

"Sammy, don't you dare do this! Don't you dare leave me here alone!" Dean shouted, refusing to add "don't you die."

"I have to Dean, I can't hold on, I can't get back up there, and I can't, wont bring you down with me. Let me go Dean, please."

"No!"

"Dean please, I'm sorry for everything that has happened recently, and I don't want to die, but I don't see another way without hurting you. Please let me go."

"No Sam! If you go, I go. And I'm so not ready to go yet, so help me get your scrawny ass back up here, or so help me God I will haunt you wherever we end up."

Knowing that Dean would go though with his threat, that his brother would never let go, spurred Sam back into action, his hand gripping back onto Dean's wrist as his loose arm came up to grasp onto Dean's other. The momentum though began to pull Dean further over the edge, causing Sam to start panicking.

"Dean, please don't do this, please let go." He begged, his eyes glistening with unshed wetness.

"I can't Sam, it's my job to protect you, to always watch out for you." Dean relied as his body slid further, and only his knees jammed into the wall kept them up, even that effort though was short lived and Dean felt the end nearing. "I love you brother." Dean spoke as he locked eyes steadily with Sam.

"I love you too." Sam answered back, the tears that had been threatening, falling freely now.

"Now that is just such a sweet moment, but I'm freezing my old arse off out here and you guys look as though you could do with a hand?"

Dean almost released Sam in shock as he felt a hand grab his belt and start pulling them back. When he heard Bobby's gruff voice h cried in relief, never having been so overjoyed to hear the older hunter before. "Sam, Bobby's here. We're going to be okay, I just need you to help us out, I just need you to hold on please. Can you do that?"

Although emotionally and physically drained Sam nodded in response, stilling his body as best he could in an attempt to make it easier on Dean and Bobby, only moving when his feet touched stone allowing him to gain some purchase. With Bobby's help Dean was soon safe and secure on solid ground and Sam's body began to slowly crawl over the edge, collapsing on the ground next to Dean once he was back, both boys breathing heavily from the exertion, Bobby standing protectively above them. It took Sam to start shivering from a combination of shock and cold to incite Dean into action again, his big brother mode switching into overdrive.

"You okay Sam?"

Sam thought long before replying, yes he was exhausted, yes he was hurting, yes he'd probably dream about what had happened for a long time to come, he should be a mess, yet he wasn't. "I'm fine Dean." He said, not even realizing that he had given their usual response until Dean grumbled. "Honestly Dean. I'm hurting, I'm cold, but I'm here and I'm fine, or at least I will be when I can get out of these wet clothes." Dean accepted Sam's word this time and stood, reaching out with his good arm as he did so to pull Sam up, steadying his sibling as he stumbled.

The walk back to Bobby's seemed much longer and more arduous, both boys struggling by the time they reached the salvage yard Sam literally falling asleep after Bobbys had reset his shoulder, leaving Bobby to change him into some warmer clothing and tuck him into bed, something Sam would be mortified to learn when he woke up. Dean sat on the opposite bed after showering, watching the fall and rise of Sam's chest as his brother slept deeply, not even acknowledging Bobby as he crept into the room, but taking the steaming cup of coffee that the older man offered. They sat in silence until Dean finally asked.

"Will he really be okay? Is this finally over?"

"It's over. He's stronger than you think Dean, he'll be fine."

Dean allowed tears to fall as he went on to say. "I nearly lost him Bobby. He wanted me to let go."

"But you didn't lose him. You didn't let go." He took the still untouched mug back from Dean as he ordered him to also get into bed, the exhaustion evident as the younger man did so without protest, the pain relievers Dean had taken starting to work.

Walking back to the door a few minutes later, Bobby paused to look back at both boys sleeping peacefully, their bodies subconsciously turning so that they faced each other even in sleep. He choked back tears as he thought how close he had come to losing both of them tonight, his mind going over and over scenario after scenario where h couldn't find the ritual, where it failed to work, where Dean let go, or the worst where he was too late in getting to them, finding their bodies days later miles downstream. Forcing those thoughts back he rubbed a calloused hand across his face before whispering "I love you boys," leaving the door ajar as he left, knowing for now at least he had succeeded and tht they were going to be okay.

The End.

**A.N. . . . . . . Well another one comes to an end, I hope that you enjoyed it and as always I thank each and everyone of you for reading. Will catch you soon, Peanut x**


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